


Skyline

by dragongummy



Category: Nikita (TV 2010)
Genre: Angst, Empathy, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Longing, M/M, Michael has issues, References to Suicide, Sympathy, Understanding, some naughty words
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-26
Updated: 2013-04-26
Packaged: 2017-12-09 13:14:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/774612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragongummy/pseuds/dragongummy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: The things Birkhoff is learning about Michael surprises him. And it helps him understand with great sympathy why he and Nikki are drawn together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Skyline

**Author's Note:**

> If you allow me free reign to come up with Michael's issues, you best be prepared for some man angst. :) SPOILERS if you don't know Michael's depressing past. But I did make up/exaggerate some things for the sake of angst. AND SPOILERS for season 1!!!!! Youve been warned.

Birkhoff slowly starts to resent that no one worries about Michael. Sure, he's one of the best agents ( **THE** best, arguably better than Nikki. He'd seen him best her in hand-to-hand). One of the best anyone had ever seen. Knew how to handle himself in the field and under stress. Knew that if there wasn't a way out, he wouldn't be taken down without bringing Hell with him. Of course, Michael always found a way out. He was like water; when trapped, he found a new path between the cracks. That was the thing about Michael. He was so _good_ that he looked almost untouchable. Birkhoff sees the way the students look at him. With awe, with respect, with affection. And some (there will always be some) that look at Michael like he's a piece of meat they want to eat.

But that's what pisses him off. Percy has turned Michael into an object of God-like authority. Dressing him up into sleek suits and coms to flaunt his swagger and predatory aura. It worked, people pretty much swayed to what he told them. He only answered to one person, after all. And he was the only one Percy even cared about (because let's be honest here).

But no one saw Michael in his solitude. Eyes were on him at all hours of the day, but it was Birkhoff who watched over security during the nights. Of course no one was going to get through his Shadow Net, but he humored everyone for the sake of an excuse to drink more coffee and Gatorade. He would flash back and forth between rooms of Percy, Amanda and the recruits. He'd always flick to Michael's room last, because he thinks deep down if he's watching Michael, something amazing was not far behind. Michael usually paces in his room every night for a few hours before he finally takes of his suit and throws it on the wide expanse of his kitchen counter top. He ran his hand over one of the cuffs, rubbing it between his thumb and forefinger before kicking off his shoes.

When he took off his undershirt, Birkhoff had to swallow what came up his throat. His body was littered in red and black bruises. On his ribs, back and shoulders. Some stiches here and there along with angry blotches of newly forming welts along his chest. What the hell? Then Michael is reaching into his back pocket and pulling out his lit up phone. Birkhoff swallows his Snickers bar with renewed speed and patches into the audio of Michael's room. He should feel guilty, but he's _Birkhoff_ and this is a fucking **secret agent spy black ops headquarters** and Michael was still the most interesting mystery to have ever crossed their door. If they didn't want him to spy, then maybe they should take away his spy gear, damnit.

"...a choice, Nikita." Birkhoff froze. He's talking to Nikki? Oh shit. What should he do? Keep listening, yes, that sounds perfect. Or tap into their conversation, yes, even better. It didn't take him too long to get a signal from nearby towers.

"You know I can't believe that," he hears Nikki say. She sounds breathless. Winded perhaps.

"Then I don't know what I can say," Michael whispers. It's so soft that Birkhoff's gaze flicks back to the video of Michael's room. His head is buried into one of his hands and he's seated on the edge of his bed.

"There isn't anything that you can say. I know I can't fix in you what Percy has forced you to believe. All I'm asking is you buy me time to prove it. Give me 12 hours to pin him down in Macao to the drugs and then you can have him." Birkhoff is already confused. He sees more than hears the sigh Michael lets out. Over the phone it's just a quiet whoosh of breath.

"I can only give you 10, and then you know I can't guarentee anything else. You can't be there when we make the call. I can't let you get away again." A pause. "And I don't need fixing," Michael says slowly.

"But you do, Michael," Nikki answers back. It's sad and laced with smypathy and Birkhoff feels it too. It pangs behind his eyes and he feels it hit him harder when Michael abruptly hangs up.

\-----------------------

The nexy day Birkhoff finally notices it. The look Michael has on his face. It's defeat. Unhappiness. Loneliness. He still goes about his day like the machine he is, but it makes Birkhoff sick. Sick to realize that the face he's making is the one he makes seventy percent of the time. And the fact that no one knows him enough to notice. Knows him enough to even care.

Birkhoff leaves a cup of hot coffee on his desk with Michael's name on it. How Michael liked it. Black. Nothing else added. Which says something else about Michael, but Birkhoff can't put his finger on that one yet.

When he comes back from the bathroom, the cup is gone.

\-----------------------

Michael was pinned down. He was in Macao, backup is halfway across the world. Division was there to seal a deal with the Triad for some smuggling rings in the brothels and casinos in the north and it had been a trap.

There had been gunfire, chaos in Division for about ten minutes to figure out what was going on, and Michael's voice patched in.

"Gone...men down, require extraction at the Grand Hyatt Hotel..." Then nothing. Percy demanded the the medical squad get on a jet and fly Michael home. With all the hurry, it still took almost 24 hours for the little black dot to come back into sight again. Birkhoff had gone crazy with worry and anxiety, pulled all the feeds of what could have went down. It happened almost immediately after Michael and his team had gotten there. Table tops flipped in defense, half the team was down in seconds. Michael took out most of them in hand-to-hand after maneuvering his way in the shadows and chaos. Using people as sheilds like some spy movie. It was unreal.

Until someone came from behind, stabbed Michael in the side twice before a woman came into frame and shot him in the back of the head. 

 _Nikki._ Michael dropped fast, Nikki dragging Michael out of frame. Birkhoff managed to pull a camera from the roof of another building two blocks away. She was touching his face in a frenzy and applying pressure to his side before bandaging it as well as she could with what she had. He tried to move her hands away, but she grabbed his wrist and pressed it to his side. She touched his face again and Birkhoff could see her jaw moving as she spoke to him. His pale face broke into multiple emotions, one he recognized as defeat. He nodded. Nikki reached into her pocket and dialed a number before placing it to Michael's face. Then she kissed his cheek before running out of shot.

Birkhoff was one of the first ones to visit Michael in the medical wing behind Percy. 

"But keep the pain medication away from him while he's like this," he heard Percy say, "We don't need him trying to cancel himself again like last time." Birkhoff's stomach dropped. Canceled? Is that how Percy saw it? Birkhoff had read Michael's file, but only what he was allowed to. Some was classified, some was blacked out. Looking at Michael's unconscious body now was like watching a god bleed. He knew his own eyes were wide as he looked at Michael's body. 

Michael wasn't invincible. 

\--------------------

He's snooped. He'd be the first to admit it (though not to Percy or Amanda, he wasn't suicidal). He'd broken into Michael's files stored behind Percy's own. He read Percy's documentation of how he'd found Michael.

_Broken and worthless. He thinks that ending his life will solve all of this. He's lost his family but 24 hours ago, he's numb. I can tell in the way he doesn't even pull away from me, a stranger, nor the nurses poking him with needles. He could kill me if he wanted to. The NAVY trained him as much even if he wasn't a SEAL. He's a smart one, I can see it. But he's lost right now. I caught him trying to kill himself on pills this morning, poor guy. I sent the cleaner to his house to take care of the bodies. At least he won't know that the stranger was responsible. How could he? He doesn't even have a will to live._

Boiling loathing for Percy bit at him and he wants to point the barrell at the man's temple himself. Wants to hear him confess to Michael's face and let Michael pull the trigger. Jesus, did Percy not even care?

He came across articles of Michael in the ward, wallowing in self hate and sadness. Percy had them all collected in a file like a collage, like he was proud of what he brought Michael up from. And it pulled at Birkhoff's emotions. The more he read, the more he wished he could unknow. Someone as powerful and strong willed as Michael, pushed down to a low. He'd fallen so deep, been pushed there so fast that the shock has almost made him take his own life. Someone like Michael.

 _Michael tried to kill himself._ Birkhoff didn't sleep that night.

\------------------

Michael came back to work the next day like nothing had happened, and no one else had known anything had happened. He was doped up on pain medication, he could tell. Because he was easy to smile all day and Birkhoff heard him laugh all goofy whenever someone from Operations (the only few who knew of what happened in Macao) pulled him into a hug.

And all be damned if Birkhoff did everything he could to keep that smile there.

\-----------------

Michael actually humored Birkhoff when he asked him to join him for lunch a few months later. They'd gotten used to each other a bit from speaking to each other in missions over coms. Michael trusted Birkhoff when he was in the field, and Division trusted Michael to deliver. And he did. He liked Michael. He enjoyed his blunt humor and inability to laugh at himself. His deadly force in combat and his almost endearing passion and approach to his work and training. Recruits didn't feel so intimidated not to come up to him either. They asked him for tips and advice, for tactical approaches and personal matters. And he talked to them all. It was sweet.

Birkhoff slid a half of a sub across the table to Michael, who tilted his head at him before unwrapping it and taking a bite. That was another thing Birkhoff liked. Michael's habit of tilting his head. It could be inquisitive, confused, intimidating or even, like in this case, thankful. They didn't speak too much outside of Operations. He looked up from his own sub and saw Michael chewing slowly with his eyes raised to the fighting pads. Birkhoff followed his gaze to Alex sparring. She reminded Birkhoff so much of Nikki. Her ability to absorb things like a sponge. The way she was unpredictable and not to be underestimated. 

Maybe it's what Michael saw too. He knows he misses Nikki. Birkhoff thinks he was in love with her at some point. Hell, maybe he still is. After all, no one knows how she keeps managing to "slip" away. Percy knows. Amanda knows. Birkhoff knows. Michael is the only one who would be able to kill her, but also knows that he can't. Nikki is the only one who makes him feel something again. Something he lost with the death of his family all those years ago. And Percy is aware above everyone else. Michael isn't ready to let her go, may never be. But she's still a threat and Michael needs to know that one day he's going to have to do it. So Percy keeps sending him out. 

Alex flips her opponent before turning her head towards their table and waving. Birkhoff watches Michael tilt his head with a smile and wave her over. She rolls her eyes and trots over in her training bra and yoga pants. 

"What is it, boss man?" She pants. Michael holds out the sub and inclines his head towards it. She gets the hint and leans her head down to take a bite. She wipes the side of her mouth with her thumb while chewing and nodding.

"Turkey? That's good, but next time take off the mayo. It's disgusting." She slaps Michael's shoulder before running back to train some more. Birkhoff bites his lip. Nikki hated mayonaise too.

Michael's eyes drop and he sighs into the sandwich before taking another bite. 

And it's so _not_ Michael, but what does he know, what do any of them know? Michael is a closed book who lives inside his own head and no one cares to bring his walls down. But one woman did. One woman brought them down and then some. And Birkhoff hopes that wherever Nikki is that she hasn't forgotten Michael either. Nikki has been through too much, too. On the run constantly. Trying to find her way and take down an agency that destroyed her family. The same agency that destroyed Michael's. It's strange how these two people with broken souls have found one another and made the other more alive. And it's so much more philosophical shit than Birkhoff's own mind can come up with. It run so much deeper, Birkhoff knows they have a deeper history.

Because as far as he's concerned, they belong together. They deserve each other.

\-------------------

Birkhoff is not surprised when Michael joins Nikki. He'd hoped for it. So he does the only thing he can think of to support his only friends. The only two people he's cared about. 

He joins them.

And he won't say out loud that he's doing it mostly for Michael.

Because he wants to witness the moment when Michael finds his way.


End file.
